Oscar Wrap-up: What Worked and What Didn’t
 									 								 								 								 	 		 		 			 			
			 			 			 			 		
 	 						  								 							  	You can usually count on the Oscars to be either good or  bad, boring or surprising. This year's ceremony wasn't quite any of  those things; instead, it was 
weird, thanks to the unsettling  sense that we were watching a taped dress rehearsal full of inside  jokes, presenters stumbling over their awkward banter, and dead air. To  be fair, it's hard to stage an Oscar ceremony in the modern era —  essentially, you're trying to make about two-dozen highly predictable  wins seem interesting — but has there ever been one this loopy and  low-key? Sometimes that off-kilter approach was successful, but more  often than not, it left us scratching our heads. Here are five aspects  of the show that worked, and six that definitely didn't.
 							  	 							  		
What Worked
  No unnecessary montages
In years past, the Academy has indulged in totally time-wasting montages  that have only the most tenuous connection to the Oscars themselves  (remember the horror montage last year, which seemed to exist solely to  get the actors from 
Twilight some screen time?). This year,  those tributes were mercifully absent, and the only montages left were  stirringly cut sequences that emphasized the movies that were actually  nominated this year. Fancy that!
  
Luke Matheny's win for Live-Action Short Film
If there was anyone in the Kodak Theatre who could outdo Helena Bonham  Carter for best awards-season hair, it would have to be the follicularly  fecund Luke Matheny, who bounded onstage when his 
God of Love  won the short film Oscar. "I should have gotten a haircut," the  Brooklyn-based filmmaker muttered good-naturedly, and he closed his  enthusiastic speech with a line just as good, aimed at his girlfriend:  "Sasha Gordon, you're my dream come true." Fun fact: Matheny's  Oscar-winning short was 
rejected by Sundance and Slamdance. And you can watch his 2008 
Cyrano de Bergerac–inspired 
short Earano here.
    
The off-the-cuff remarks
Every time a presenter went off-book, they were immediately funnier and  more winning than when reading the iffy material on the TelePrompTer.  Whether it was Cate Blanchett dropping a well-timed "That was gross"  after a clip of 
The Wolfman's special effects or Anne Hathaway joking "Flub! Drink at home" when she blew a line, the unplanned moments (especially 
Kirk Douglas's aggressively unexpected filibuster) provided the few times that the show really came to life comedically.
  
Robert Downey Jr. and Sandra Bullock
Just imagine if these two presenters — who make it look so easy and even fun — had been your Oscar hosts instead.
  
The first three King's Speech speeches
Fittingly, the men behind 
The King's Speech really knew how to  talk onstage. Seventysomething screenwriter David Seidler got a good  line in about being a late bloomer, while director Tom Hooper brought  his speech to a dramatic pause with a heartfelt tribute to his mother,  who was responsible for bringing the property to his attention. And  then, what a moment to see Colin Firth so moved, and even shaky, after  an awards season where he could be counted on for preternatural calm at  the podium. Sadly, everyone had taken their Valiums prior to the film's  Best Picture win, when the producers, cast, and crew crowded the stage  and barely cracked smiles.
  
What Didn't
  Franco is from Mars, Hathaway is from Venus
If Franco and Hathaway's oppositional approaches to hosting had been set  up from the very beginning as the comedic heart of their partnership —  spaced-out, jaded, eye-rolling Franco having to put up with manic,  yelping, enthusiastic Hathaway; energetic, game Hathaway having to  encourage Franco to get into the spirit — it might have worked as a  comedy routine in the Burns-Allen mold. Instead it was like watching two  people operating in alternate realities (or having two very different  drug experiences), with the distance between them expanding and  expanding as the show went on. Hathaway committed, and committed hard.  She sang, she emoted, she projected. Franco, meanwhile, went  blank-slate, projecting nothing except expressions verging on outright  disdain. As he got more and more ironic, she got more and more worked  up. He may have kept his cool (and 
tweeted up a storm),  but why take this job if you're not going to try? And he left Hathaway  hanging in the wind, exposed as a Rachel Berry in front of 100 million  people. 
  
The jokes
Contributing mightily to the lack of good juju between Hathaway and Franco was their lack of material. Even the 
opening pre-taped sketch,  in which Hathaway and Franco got incepted into Alec Baldwin's dreams,  wasn't that funny or tight — and that's the bit they get to vet in  advance, and edit for the best delivery. (It ended, anachronistically,  on a
 Back to the Future joke. We love
 Back to the Future,  but why?) From there things just went pear-shaped: Franco introduced  Jake Gyllenhaal by saying, like a robot, "He made out with my co-host  ... in a movie." Later, he introduced presenters by saying he was  connected to them through six degrees of Kevin Bacon, and we could look  that up on the Internet. The only topical joke of the night arrived when  Franco came onstage in drag and said to Hathaway, "You got to wear a  tuxedo, so I wore this. The weird part is I just got a text message from  Charlie Sheen." It speaks to the paucity of humor that this actually  got a big chuckle from the audience. Say what you will about Ricky  Gervais's 
"mean-spirited" performance  at the Golden Globes, at least he made and delivered jokes. Franco and  Hathaway aren't comedians, and if their respective drama-queen and  Quaalude-inflected deliveries didn't help them put this mediocre banter  over, it's not their fault it was mediocre in the first place. 
  
It was so white
The only people of color onstage during the show were Oprah, Halle  Berry, Jennifer Hudson, and some of the adorable, head-bopping kids in  the P.S. 22 choir. This is embarrassing enough, but it was awkwardly  heightened by the lengthy tribute to Lena Horne, the one person who died  this past year who was given a special honorary segment, and not just  included in the In Memoriam montage (into which Corey Haim did not make  it). It's not that Horne doesn't deserve the honor, just that it played  like the producers' implicit acknowledgment that they had a diversity  problem, and were using Horne as a way to whitewash it. While speaking  about Horne's career, and her difficulties in making one, Berry said,  "that was a very different time in Hollywood." Well, not different  enough. 
  
Changing up the presentation of Best Actor and Actress Awards
For the past two years, during the presentation of the acting awards,  five non-nominated actors have been gathered up, with each delivering a  personal message to one of the nominees. While this was sometimes  cringe-worthy, it was also sometimes sweet, and it was always a way to  personalize the experience, both for the audience and the nominees.  Apparently this year's producers agreed: They kept in the personal  tributes, but instead of having them delivered by different actors,  someone the nominee ostensibly really knew, they opted to have them all  delivered by one presenter. Look, Sandra Bullock is so charming and  professional she can give five speeches to the five Best Actor nominees  and make them all go over. Jeff Bridges, awesome as he is, not so much.  Either do away with this format altogether — it sure would save time —  or fully commit. 
  
Bare-bones musical performances
Over-the-top musical spectaculars are easy to make fun of, but being  able to make fun of things is part of what makes the Oscars enjoyable.  This year's musical performances, back in the show after being exiled  last year, were all extremely sober affairs: Why have Florence Welch on  the show just to, like, moan softly for a minute? And whatever your  feelings about Gwyneth,
 her and some Muppets not only would have lightened things up, they would have been the highlight of this show. 
  
Bob Hope, the hologram
To be fair, the Oscar producers couldn't have known before the show what  a bad idea it would be to have Billy Crystal do a monologue — a  walking, talking reprimand to Franco and Hathaway, on how to host and  make it look pleasant and easy — but cutting to some strange Bob Hope  projection? They should have known better. Having, thankfully, cut all  the aforementioned montages, they had some extra time to fill, but this  was just strange and creepy, especially when Hope "introduced" Robert  Downey Jr. and Jude Law. Ick. Don't have him do that. (Fun fact (?) No.  2: 
Freaks and Geeks creator Paul Feig originally supplied the  voice of Hope introducing Downey and Law, but found out while watching  the broadcast that 
they'd bumped him for someone else.)